


The Girl In the Cellar.

by steeleye



Series: Military Faith. [4]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, NCIS
Genre: Action/Adventure, F/F, Horror, crossover fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-26
Updated: 2016-03-31
Packaged: 2018-05-29 05:40:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 20,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6361645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/steeleye/pseuds/steeleye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a ‘Military Faith’ story; Gibbs and his team are in a race against time to save the ‘Girl in the Cellar’, better known as Staff Sergeant F Lehane.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The Girl in the Cellar.

By Steeleye.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer or NCIS I write these stories for fun not profit.

 **Crossover:** The Buffyverse with NCIS based on the episode, ‘The Good Wives Club’.

 **Spelling, Punctuation, and Grammar:** Written in glorious English-English which is different to American-English.

 **Timeline:** Set after the events depicted in the Military Faith story, 'Semper Fidelis'.

 **Words:** Seven chapters of about 3000 words.

 **Warnings:** None…maybe a little 'icky' in one or two places but nothing graphic.

 **Summary:** A ‘Military Faith’ story; Gibbs and his team are in a race against time to save the ‘Girl in the Cellar’, better known as Staff Sergeant F Lehane.

0=0=0=0

**Abandoned Base Housing, Norfolk Naval Base, November 2006.**

Ignoring the cold wind that blew in off the sea, Nick Poole studied the plans held in his gloved hands. Glancing up he stepped to one side to allow the mechanical digger to pass him by as the driver got it into position to start demolishing the house behind him. Satisfied that the house was in fact the next one on the list for demolition, Nick gave the signal for the driver to start his work.

After walking away from the house towards the road, Nick stood and watched as the digger was maneavoured into position. As the vehicle backed up, Nick noticed something on the ground; the earth was falling away under the digger’s wheel making a hole that grew larger as he watched. Realising that there must be a cellar or some other void under the garden he ran forward waving his arms in the air and shouting at the driver to stop. If the vehicle drove into the hole the entire area might give away. Bringing the digger to a halt the driver climbed down from his cab demanding to know what the problem was. For the moment Nick ignored him, he was too busy checking the plan again. He’d been right the first time, there were no cellars or service tunnels marked on the map.

“Get me a flashlight!” he called as he walked towards the hole.

The hole was about two feet deep and three or four feet across at the top. What interested Nick most was the dark opening at the bottom of the hole. Someone passed him a flashlight; switching it on he shone the beam into the opening. At first he couldn’t make out much, but after moving the beam around a little he saw what looked like a room, maybe it was an old fallout shelter, this was his first thought. Walking slowly around the hole keeping the flashlight beam focused through the opening, Nick gasped as he stopped dead in his tracks.

“Call the cops!” Nick stumbled away from the hole his face turning deathly pale.

“What’s wrong?” demanded the driver as he stepped forward to try and see what Nick had seen.

“Just call the cops, would ya!” Nick recovered a little from his initial shock and advanced towards the hole again.

Once more shining the beam through the opening, Nick realised he’d actually seen what he’d thought he’d seen. Lying on a bed in a room built under the garden lay the desiccated body of a woman clothed in a wedding dress.

0=0=0=0

**Fort Robert Shaw, Virginia.**

No more ‘direct action’ (as the army euphemism went for infantry combat) the army had told Faith after she’d collected her third Purple Heart. Her company commander had given her the stark choice, either transfer out of the 54th Motor Transport Battalion or leave the army. The thing was, Faith didn’t want to leave the army, it was the one stable thing in her life after she’d woken up in Sunnydale General Hospital and being in a coma for eight months; she had no memories from before her coma other than knowing what her name was.

The trouble was that ‘direct action’ seemed to follow Faith around like a stray dog and she enjoyed it (the combat not the stray dog thing). Combat seemed to make her feel even more alive than sex did, and (like sex) she was good at it; combat appeared to fill some deep seated need in her. The army had at first appeared to agree with her, but after she’d picked up both a Silver and Bronze Star in Iraq. They’d changed their minds. They told her it would be bad for the army’s image if she got killed, people didn’t like reading about dead female soldiers over their breakfasts.

So it was with a heavy heart that Faith had gone to her company commander and requested a transfer to the Military Police Corps. Having read up on the MP’s Faith, had quickly realised that transferring to the MP’s would be her best hope of seeing more action. The MP’s got posted to Iraq where they escorted convoys and convoys got ambushed. All she had to do was bide her time and wait for her unit to be rotated back to Iraq so she could get back into the action.

However, Captain Baron, her old company commander, had seen through her ‘cunning plan’ and sent along Faith’s friend, the newly promoted Corporal Brenda Mitchell to keep an eye on her. After finishing their training at Fort Leonard Wood, the Military Police training school, Faith and Brenda had found themselves posted not to an army base but to the Marines at Camp Lejeune in North Carolina. The Marines were forming a new division and they were desperately short of instructors. As combat vets Faith and Brenda found themselves attached to the Recon Platoon of 1st Battalion, 12th Marine Regiment. As if this wasn’t enough they were then sent (with the Marines) to help restore order on the Caribbean island of Nunca-Aterriza.

After returning to the States, Faith had pleaded with the Marines to send herself and Brenda back to the army. The Marines were sad to see her go and had asked her to transfer, but Faith liked being a soldier so she stuck with the army and wherever Faith went, Brenda went with her. The two young women then had the good fortune of both being posted to Fort Shaw in Virginia. 

Fort Shaw was an army transport and stores depot near Norfolk Naval Base. It had nearly three hundred military and civilian personnel on base plus families. These people were all watched over by ‘B’ Company, 727th Military Police Battalion of which Faith and Brenda were the newest and, so far, only female members. The company commander, Captain Horne was desperate for female personnel. By some fluke all of ‘B’ companies previous female personnel had come to the end of their enlistments within a couple of months of each other, so when Faith and Brenda turned up fresh from their adventures in the Caribbean he was overjoyed to see them.

By the time they’d been on the base for a couple of weeks Faith’d got used to the routine of base security, patrolling and training. At first she’d thought she might find it boring and was worried that she might regret her choice of new career. But, late at night, when she was patrolling the camp and the surrounding living quarters, she’d occasionally bump into one of those weird creatures that had plagued her life since before she’d first gone to Iraq. The ‘things’ that bit people on the neck and who, for want of a better name, Brenda and herself referred to as bloodsuckers.

Having first come into contact with these ‘bloodsuckers’ in Iraq, Brenda and Faith had later found themselves fighting ‘zombies’ and some really weird beasts which a mysterious Ranger Captain called Finn had told them were ‘hellhounds’. Of course Faith didn’t believe a word of it, there were no such things as bloodsuckers, zombies and hellhounds; she’d long suspected that they were all products of government run experiments that had gone wildly wrong.

In Iraq, when she’d come up against anything weird, mysterious officers like this Captain Finn guy always seemed to turn up and tell her that what she’d just fought was one of Saddam’s bio-experiments that had gone wrong and escaped. Obviously, or so it seemed to Faith, someone in the US government had brought some samples back home with them then let them escape. Other than Brenda, Faith never told anyone about these little night time adventures; she always had this feeling that if she did her life would get infinitely more complicated than it was already. As a result both women kept their mouths firmly closed on the subject.

After only a couple of days living on base, Faith had rented a small house just outside the base for herself and Brenda to live in. Normally Faith, as a Staff Sergeant wouldn’t have been allowed to room with her friend Brenda who was only a Corporal. However as they were the only two female soldiers in the company, Captain Horne had raised no objections. So, Faith had signed the rental agreement and Brenda and herself had moved in. They’d had to rent a two bedroom house, but in reality the two women only used one bedroom, the other being there for appearances sake.

Living off base gave Faith more freedom so no one questioned her about her late night comings and going. It also gave her and Brenda a safe place to carry on the relationship they’d started when they’d been with the Marines. Everyone knew that Faith and Brenda were old Iraq buddies and didn’t think it strange that the two women liked to spend time together. It helped that they both liked guys and were often seen in the local clubs and bars with guys on their nights off. They both knew to be careful and never made there relationship appear to be anything other than that of two buddies sharing a house for conveniences sake.

0=0=0=0

**Abandoned Base Housing, Norfolk Naval Base.**

“Agent Gibbs?” asked the slightly bored looking naval officer as Gibbs climbed down from the NCIS truck and presented his ID to the officer. “Lieutenant Commander Willis, Base Security.”

“Special Agents Todd, McGee and DiNozzo,” Gibbs introduced his team as they lined up having followed Gibbs down from the truck. “How long has it been since anyone lived in these units?”

“Base closed the tract five years ago,” Lt Cmdr Willis explained as he started to lead Gibbs towards the house, “plans were to convert it to a park but cutbacks meant it had to be put on hold.” Willis paused to gather his thoughts, “The units were becoming a health and safety hazard so civilian contractors were brought in to demo them.”

Leading Gibbs and his team around to the back of the house, Willis stopped where a section of the overgrown garden had been cordoned off with yellow hazard tape.

“As soon as he knew what he had,” Willis explained as he gestured to the hole, “the foreman stopped all work and called us,” Willis shrugged, he was a man out of his depth, “We secured the scene and called you.”

“Old bunker?” Gibbs asked as he rested his hands on his knees and peered into the hole.

“We don’t know what it is,” Willis replied with a shake of his head.

0=0=0=0

**Faith and Brenda’s house, Fort Shaw.**

“Hi honey I’m home!” Faith called as she closed the front door behind her.

“I’m in the kitchen,” Brenda called from further inside the little house.

Walking through the living room Faith came to the kitchen where Brenda was making a fresh pot of coffee. Coming up behind her friend she slipped her arms around her waist and kissed the cute blonde on the back of the neck.

“Hey,” Faith let go of Brenda and climbed up on a stool to watch the girl work, “what’s with the uniform?”

“Prisoner escort,” Brenda turned a sour face to Faith and gave a resigned shrug, “came up at the last minute.”

“Crap!” Faith cast her eyes down and studied the floor for a moment.

“Sorry, caint get outta it,” Brenda gave Faith a resigned look; they’d planned to go out that night to a club near Norfolk Naval Base where they’d stand less chance of being recognised.

“Crap!” Faith said again, “The sooner you get promoted to sergeant and don’t have to go on these crappy details the better.”

“Hey,” Brenda stepped towards Faith and put her arms around her, “yuh know that’s not gonna happen any time soon, Captain Barron was pushing thangs gettin’ me promoted to corporal.”

“Remind me to send him a Christmas card,” Faith slipped her arms around Brenda’s middle, the two women kissed slowly for several minutes, eventually Brenda pushed Faith away.

“Hey, Staff Sergeant,” Brenda grinned, “girls’ gotta get on duty ya know?”

“Life’s not fair,” reluctantly Faith relinquished her hold on the southern girl, “when are ya coming back?”

“Sorry sweetie,” Brenda looked sadly at her girlfriend, “not ‘til tomorrow morning.”

“Crap!” Faith repeated for a third time, anyone would think that the army was deliberately trying to keep them apart.

“Look,” Brenda started to pour freshly made coffee into her thermos flask, “I know we were s’posed to go out an’all so why don’t yuh go an’ recon the place anyway, tell me what its like, huh?”

“Won’t be the same,” Faith sulked like a teenager.

“Well,” Brenda finished screwing the top on her flask and stood facing Faith with her hands on her hips, “if yuh stay here yuh just gonna sit an’ mope, yuh might as well go out an’ enjoy y’self.”

“Yeah,” Faith agreed reluctantly, “I s’pose ya right.”

0=0=0=0

**Abandoned Base Housing, Norfolk Naval Base.**

Bending over the TV screen, Gibbs and Agent Todd studied the ghostly grey images as they flashed by unsteadily.

“A little to the left,” Gibbs called to McGee who was standing over the hole manipulating the camera on the end of a long pole which was at present sending the pictures of the inside of the ‘bunker’ back to Gibbs, “Your other left, McGee,” Gibbs called as McGee swung the camera in the wrong direction.

“Sorry, boss,” McGee replied as he shuffled around the hole.

“Nervous?” DiNozzo asked with a superior smile as he stood menacingly over McGee, the younger agent declined to answer.

The picture on the TV monitor appeared to show a room from the 50’s or 60’s. There was a bed, a toilet, sink and a dressing table. There was also what looked like the body of a long-dead woman clothed in a wedding dress. If the unfortunate woman had been killed in the 50’s or 60’s, Gibbs knew that their chances of catching the killer were slim at best even assuming the killer was still alive.

“Whoa!” Gibbs stared intently at the picture on the screen, “back a little,” he ordered as the camera sung back over the area it had just covered, “There!” The camera froze at his call, “Looks like a tunnel leading back to the house.”

Quickly the four NCIS agents gained access to the house by kicking in the door, once inside they split up and started to search. Walking into a room, DiNozzo found himself in what must have been the master bedroom. The room smelt musty from long disuse and was bare of any furniture. Noting the marks on the carpet where furniture had once stood, DiNozzo made his way over to a large closet built into one corner of the room. Pulling open the doors he saw nothing but a few old wire coat hangers and an abandoned pile of newspapers. Sighing with disappointment he was just about to close the doors again and start looking elsewhere. It was then that he noticed the air vent at the rear of the closet.

“That’s a little weird,” he told himself, “why have a vent there?”

As far as he could remember the wall with the vent in it was an internal one, there’d be nowhere to vent air to or from. Kneeling down he opened the vent and held his hand in front of it, he could feel a significant draft. Bending closer to the vent he sniffed, there was no escaping it, fresh air was blowing through the vent and into the room.

“BOSS!” he yelled as he pulled the pile of old newspapers out of the closet, “IN HERE!”

By the time Gibbs and Kate Todd had joined him, DiNozzo had pulled up the carpet from the floor of the closet and found the trapdoor concealed beneath. Lifting the trap door, DiNozzo leaned to one side to allow Gibbs to shine his flashlight down into the dark. They all clearly saw the ladder leading down into the bunker.

“Kate, McGee,” Gibbs started to climb down the ladder, “with me, DiNozzo wait here for Ducky.”

0=0=0=0

Standing at the bottom of the ladder, Gibbs, Kate and McGee found themselves in a short passageway about eight feet long, although the corridor was over seven feet high it was barely two feet wide making it feel very cramped. Running his flashlight beam over the planks that lined the wall of the passageway, Gibbs noted how well it’d been constructed. Who’d ever dug the bunker must have copied it from the marine field manuals on how to build field fortifications. For a moment Gibbs scratched his head as he wondered what the digger had done with all the spoil.

Leading the way, Gibbs came out into a large room at the end of the passageway. Again this had been well constructed, the only damage he could see was the hole made by the digger when it had passed over the bunker earlier. Again Gibbs wondered what the killer had done with all the spoil, the room was twelve or more feet square and maybe eight feet high, that was a lot of earth to move and get rid of.

“Okay people,” Gibbs said quietly, “lets do it.”

Quickly and professionally the three agents went about collecting evidence and taking photographs. Walking over to the body lying on the bed, Gibbs looked down at her studying the way she was lying. It was almost as if she’d just lain down and died, he checked her wrists and ankles, there appeared to be no sign that she’d been restrained in anyway. Scratching the back of his head once more he moved on only to be brought up short by a call from McGee.

“This is weird,” McGee pointed his flashlight at the carpeted floor.

“What’ve you found McGee?” Gibbs came to stand next to the junior agent.

“Ever seen anything like that boss?” McGee asked nervously.

“Only in the movies,” Gibbs crouched down to examine the marks on the carpet, “Kate get some shots of these.”

“Boss!” again McGee called out, “There’s more over here!”

“And here,” Kate called as she put her camera to her eye and started to snap pictures of the strange symbols burnt into the carpet and onto the walls.

“What do you make of them, Kate?” Gibbs walked up behind the female agent and examined the symbol branded into the wooden wall.

“Don’t think I’m the right person to ask boss,” Kate replied quietly, “this looks more like Abby’s area of expertise.”

0=0=0=0


	2. Chapter 2

2.

**A Nightclub in Norfolk, Virginia.**

Putting the bottle to her lips, Faith sipped her beer and decided that she’d made a bad mistake. It wasn’t anything to do with the nightclub, it was all the navy files who crowded the place that were causing her unease. Of course, she now realised, she should have known better. Norfolk being a huge naval base obviously any night spot nearby would be full of off duty sailors. The club itself wasn’t so bad, being young and ‘hot’ the doorman hadn’t had any reservations about letting her in. The music wasn’t bad although it wasn’t what Faith would listened to by choice (she preferred Country and Western), but it was good to dance to. The drinks weren’t overpriced and the security guys seemed to be able to keep out the jerks and the under aged.

Sitting on a stool at the bar, Faith took another swig of her beer as she looked around at all the navy guys and girls, dancing and having a good time with their honeys. Sighing a little, Faith realised that if she wanted to dance and have a good time with her ‘honey’ she was going to have to find a Lesbian bar or club. At least there it wouldn’t matter so much if someone recognised Brenda and herself for what they were. In the mean time, Faith signalled the barman for another beer, she might as well enjoy herself.

Both, Brenda and Faith were bi-sexual, they’d started their relationship when they’d been posted to Camp Lejeune and it was still too early for them to decide whether this was going to be a permanent thing or not. They’d talked about it of course and they’d decided that it was more than a ‘just for now’ sort of thing. But deep down neither of them knew if they wanted to make it permanent, at least Faith didn’t. When they’d moved into the house together they’d made a few rules, chief amongst them was; no bringing guys back to the house. The house was their space, a place where they could be themselves without having to worry about what anyone else thought. Another rule was; if they felt themselves falling for a guy they had to tell the other, no secrets and no nasty surprises.

“Hi!”

Faith snapped out of her reverie and turned to face the guy who’d just spoken to her. He was maybe late twenties or early thirties, short dark brown hair, handsome and had ‘officer’ written all over him.

“Hi,” Faith replied, she turned slightly towards the guy; yes, she agreed with her earlier assumption, the guy was definitely an officer, “you in the Navy?”

“Yeah,” the guy laughed, he had a nice laugh, “does it show that much?”

“No,” Faith smiled and shook her head, “I’ve a six sense for these things, officer right?”

“Right!” again the guy laughed, “And there I was thinking I looked so cool.”

“The short hair gave ya away,” Faith pointed out, screwing officers was usually a big ‘no-no’, but if this guy was navy it shouldn’t matter too much, should it? Faith frowned for a moment, how come she was already thinking about jumping this guy's bones?

“I could be a corporate lawyer,” the guy pointed out.

“Nah,” Faith shook her head making her long, dark brown curls bounce around her face, “ya look too fit for a lawyer.”

“Thanks,” the guy smiled and sipped his own beer.

“What for?” Faith wanted to know.

“For saying I don’t look like a lawyer,” the guy held out his hand to Faith, “Steve Rogers by the way.”

“Faith Lehane,” Faith shook Steve’s hand.

“That’s a nice name,” Steve put his beer down and nodded his head towards the dance floor, “dance?”

“Sure,” Faith put her empty beer bottle down, “why not?”

0=0=0=0

**The Bullpen, NCIS Building, Norfolk, the next morning.**

Taking the sheet of printed paper from the fax machine, Kate ran her eye over it before she began to speak.

“The last tenant in that house moved out in ’99,” she told everyone as she slowly walked back to her desk and sat down.

“McGee?” Gibbs sat at his desk head down staring at the photographs of the interior of the bunker.

“All the materials used in the construction of the bunker,” McGee reported briskly, “could have been purchased at any Lowe’s in the area.”

“DiNozzo?” Gibbs turned his stare towards Tony.

“A lot of the furniture in the room is authentic 50’s,” Tony began before adding, “not to my taste but what the hell?”

His comment was met by silence and a full strength glare from Gibbs. Realising he’d said the wrong thing Tony stood up and continued with his report.

“All from various manufacturers, nothing in production today,” Tony walked over to stand in front of Gibb’s desk, “The way I figure it he would’ve had to buy the stuff from antique shops or at garage sales.”

“What about the possibility of it being passed down from family members?” Kate asked interrupting Tony’s flow.

“Yeah,” Tony cast Kate a slightly annoyed look, “I was getting to that,” Tony paused before turning and slowly walking towards Kate’s desk, “or they could have been passed down from family members, which ever way he got hold of the furniture it makes it almost impossible to trace.”

Turning back to Gibbs’ desk Tony found it empty, Gibbs had vanished like a ship in the night.

0=0=0=0

**The Morgue at the NCIS Building.**

“Do you think she knew him?” Palmer asked as he watched Dr Mallard finish his preliminary examination of the woman who’d been found in the bunker.

The dry, mummified corpse now lay on the cold metal autopsy table under the harsh glare of the morgue’s lights.

“It’s difficult to say,” Dr Mallard made his way down the length of the table, “she could have been lured by a confidant or snatched by a stranger.” Ducky walked around the end of the table, “The result, unfortunately, in the case of too many young women is the same either way.”

By the time Ducky came to a halt again he found that Palmer and himself had swapped places and still stood on opposite sides of the table.

“Is your recorder on?” Ducky gestured to the small tape recorder held in Palmer’s hand.

“Erm,” Palmer hesitated, “do you want it on, Doctor?”

“Yes,” Ducky nodded absently as he continued to study the young woman’s body.

“It’s already on,” Palmer admitted.

“Well, why didn’t you just say so?” Ducky frowned as he bent to examine a blemish on the woman’s parchment like skin.

“I, erm…” Palmer started to explain himself but was interrupted by Ducky as he began to give his initial findings for the benefit of Palmer’s recorder.

“The victim is a Caucasian woman, twenty to twenty-five years of age,” Ducky began. “Cause of death can be attributed to non-specific asphyxiation. No obvious signs of sexual trauma, but due to the dehydration and mummification its impossible to say whether she was violated,” Ducky sat down on a low stool next to the table, he continued to stare at the body almost as if he expected her to speak and discuss his finding with him.

“Yeah,” Palmer mused, “but you think she was, right?”

Ducky gave his assistant a puzzled frown.

“I mean all the stories you read about these guys,” Palmer continued unwittingly digging the hole he’d made for himself a little deeper, “they don’t keep girls in cellars just for conversation.”

“Where exactly do you read these stories, Mr Palmer?” Ducky asked slightly concerned.

“I-I didn’t actually mean,” Palmer stuttered suddenly realising what he’d said and what it made him sound like, “that I read them, I meant to say that-that…”

“She wore a ring,” Ducky lifted up the dead woman’s left hand and examined it closely for a moment as he ignored Palmer's ramblings.

“A wedding ring?” Palmer asked hoping that once off the topic of girls being kept in cellars, Ducky wouldn’t go back to it.

“Yes,” Ducky replied vaguely as he gently laid the woman’s hand back onto the surface of the table. “No doubt,” Ducky pointed to a mark on the woman’s finger, “it was removed violently.” Ducky turned to look at his assistant, “Now, Mr Palmer, what stories?”

0=0=0=0

**Abby’s Lab.**

“What do you have Abby?” Gibbs asked as he walked briskly into the lab tech’s lair.

“What don’t I have, Gibbs?” Abby the Goth, forensic scientist answered Gibb’s question with a question before going on to explain what she’d discovered so far. “Clothing fibres, carpet fibres, dust, beetle parts, soiled bedding.” As she spoke Abby lifted up samples of her findings to show Gibbs. “There’s even a pamphlet called ‘The Good Wife’s Guide’,” the astonishment and mocking in Abby’s voice was clear for Gibbs to hear, “What’s up with that?”

“Ask McGee,” Gibbs replied distractedly as he looked at a plastic bag containing one of Abby’s samples; it was as if he thought that by staring at it and intimidating it he could get it to reveal its secrets.

“McGee?” Abby asked her interest piqued.

“McGee,” Gibbs confirmed laconically. 

“Really?” Abby gave a quiet laugh and looked again at the cover of the booklet.

“The dress, Abby?” 

By the time she’d stopped looking at the cover of the pamphlet, Abby found that Gibbs had moved and was standing over the wedding dress impatiently waiting for her to report. Quickly placing the booklet with the rest of the evidence, Abby hurried over to join him.

“As you might imagine,” Abby gestured at the stained and discoloured dress, “it’s not exactly in pristine condition. It was made in nineteen-fifty-two and she’d been wearing it for months before she died...and I’m running a DNA sample as we speak.”

“Prints?” Gibbs demanded.

“All over the room,” Abby however didn’t sound hopeful, “Thanks to our mummy I was able to get a match for our victim,” Abby turned to gesture towards the office area of the building, “your crack team,” Abby said with minimal sarcasm, “is running it through AFIS now.”

“The only prints in the room were hers?” Gibbs asked already suspecting he knew the answer.

“Yeah, I’m afraid so,” Abby replied sadly before adding, “I found traces of cleanser on the furniture.”

“He’s cautious,” Gibbs said more to himself than Abby.

“So am I when I chain a guy up,” Abby explained hoping to get some reaction from Gibbs, once again she was disappointed as he simply looked at her and raised an eyebrow.

“What about the symbols?” Gibbs turned the conversation back to the investigation.

“As far as I can tell they’re meaningless,” Abby lied.

“Meaningless?” Gibbs watched Abby’s face for a reaction but saw nothing.

“Yeah they’re like copied from the cover of a Stephen King novel or something,” Abby explained while all the time knowing the truth.

“They must have had meaning to the perp, Abby,” Gibbs pointed out reasonably.

“Maybe he used them to scare his victim,” Abby suggested hoping to deflect Gibbs from what they’d really been used for, “I mean this guy musta been a sicko to snatch the girl in the first place, perhaps he dabbled in black magic?”

Grimacing a little and hoping she’d not said too much, Abby watched Gibbs’ face for any adverse reaction; she breathed a sigh of relief when he shrugged, turned and with a wave of thanks over his shoulder left her alone in her lab. Sighing with relief again, Abby went over to her workbench, sat down and picked up the photographs of the symbols that’d been found in the bunker. They were ‘binding’ symbols, just like the ones she used to prevent her _guests_ from escaping before she was through with them. The symbols would explain why the woman hadn’t simply got up and walked out of the bunker, after all, apart from the magics there’d been nothing to stop her.

Although Abby Sciuto appeared to be a woman in her mid twenties she was in fact thirty-nine years old. No soap, expensive cosmetics or surgery could hope to turn back or even slow down the ravages of time for long, but magic could. All she’d had to do was take a little life force from each of her sexual partners and time and approaching middle age were not only stopped in their tracks but also rolled back a good ten years or more. Of course she was very careful not to harm her _donors_ taking only what she needed from each before releasing them with only the memories of a night spent in her bed. Compared to this guy who snatched young women and then left them to die in the dark, she was harmless, or so she told herself.

0=0=0=0

**The Girl in the Cellar.**

As soon as she woke up, Faith knew she was in big trouble. Pushing herself up on her elbows she saw she was lying on a bed in a large ill-lit bedroom. Looking down at herself she noticed for the first time she was wearing a wedding dress which had been hitched up around her hips.

“Oh crap!” She groaned as she flopped back down onto the pillows; she’d had kinky sex, probably with that Steve guy and she couldn’t even remember it, how dumb was that?

Pushing herself up into a sitting position she felt something wet between her legs.

“Oh gross,” Faith sighed as she pushed the dress out of the way so she could examine herself, there were bruises on the inside of her thighs, “Crap!” Faith repeated as she realised she’d been very dumb indeed, hitching the dress even further up her thighs she saw and smelt the thick green fluid oozing from her vagina, Faith lost it for a moment, “AAAAAGH!” she screamed as she wiped frantically at the vile smelling green stuff with her hands; she had to get the stuff off of her and out of her right now and…

Stopping the wildly yammering, panicking Faith dead in her tracks, combat veteran, MP Faith slowly reasserted control over her madly beating heart.

“Shut-up,” she told herself harshly, “panicking ain’t gonna help ya.”

Looking around the room other things started to register on her mind, to one side of the room there was an open door that looked as if it led to a bathroom. With a great effort of will she stopped herself from getting up, tearing off the dress and jumping into the shower.

“No, do that later,” she told herself, “gotta preserve the evidence.”

With no camera she couldn’t record the bruising but if she could find a container she might be able to preserve some of the green stuff. Turning to the wall opposite the bathroom, Faith saw what looked like a kitchen unit with a microwave oven sitting on the top along with a small fridge. Pushing down the skirt of the dress, she rolled off the bed and almost immediately felt something slimy start to trickle down her inner thighs, shivering with disgust for a moment, she fought to control the retching that threatened to empty her stomach contents onto the floor.

Stumbling across the room she came to a halt by the kitchen unit. Urgently she started to pull open draws. Very quickly she found paper plates, plastic cups and plastic knives, forks and spoons. Pulling off the dress she threw it back towards the bed before grabbing a plastic cup and a small plastic spoon. Gritting her teeth against the nausea that once again threatened to spill her stomach contents onto the floor, she eased the spoon into her vagina and collected a sample of the green stuff. The sample from inside her stank even worse than the stuff that had been running down her legs. Losing the fight against the bile that bubbled up into her throat, Faith vomited into the small sink next to the kitchen unit. Showing great strength of character she managed to hold the sample well away from where she was throwing up.

Eventually she stopped retching and placed the spoon into the plastic cup. Taking another cup she ran some water into it and used it to wash out her mouth, next she washed her tear stained face and rested for a moment leaning against the sink. Slowly her eyes drifted over to the sample.

“Okay,” she told herself breathlessly, “need to cover it an’ store it somewhere.”

The fridge would be the perfect place, now all she needed was to find something to cover the cup with. Looking in the fridge she found several microwave meals none of which gave her what she wanted. They did, however, tell her that whoever had put her down here wanted to keep her alive at least for the time being. A search of the closet above the unit revealed several types of dehydrated and tinned meals. Pulling the cellophane from a pack of dehydrated pasta sauce, Faith wrapped up the specimen cup as best she could and put it in the fridge.

Now, she’d preserved the evidence she could look after herself. Whatever that stuff was that was still dripping out of her it must be pretty noxious to stink like that, Faith told herself. Time to do something about it. Making her way over to the door, she found that it did in fact lead to a bathroom with a flush toilet and a shower unit. Switching on the water, Faith jumped into the shower not caring that the water was still freezing cold. It was no good, she had to get that stuff off her and out of her as quickly as she could. Scrubbing at herself with the bar of soap, she hardly noticed her tears mixing with the slowly warming water that ran over her body cleaning it of whatever had been put inside her.

“How could I be so dumb?” she demanded of herself; hadn’t she been to the base high school only a few days ago to warn the girls not to do what she’d obviously done the night before?

0=0=0=0

**The Bullpen.**

“The victim is Carolyn Figgis,” Kate announced as she looked at the picture of a pretty young woman in a naval uniform, “Petty Officer third class, aged twenty-two, went missing eighteen months ago.”

“I pulled the file, boss,” Tony gestured with the file in his hand, “It was a Pacci case, didn’t have much; she left for work one morning and ‘poof’ gone. No witness’s, case went cold.”

“Yeah,” Gibbs sighed sadly, “well, it just went hot again.”

“Ducky estimates she’s been dead about a year,” McGee explained a look of disgust on his face, “that means she was in the bunker for six months before she died.”

“That rules out the last tenants,” Tony observed.

“Kate,” Gibbs held up a picture of the murdered Petty Officer, “tell me about her killer.”

“The basic pathology is obvious,” Kate stood up and came out from behind her desk, she started to pace across the bullpen. “He was probably abused as a child, dad beating on mom with either mom or dad, maybe both beating on him, who knows?”

“He’s trying to create the perfect relationship?” McGee suggested.

“That’s right,” Kate agreed as she came to the end of the bullpen, “control’s the name of the game here.”

“This one didn’t live up to expectations,” Tony added.

“So,” Gibbs rubbed his forehead slowly, “he cut off her air supply and left her in an air tight chamber to die and moved on.”

“Yeah,” Kate agreed with a slow nod of her head, “that’s the problem, this kind of pathology is driven, he’s not going to stop until he finds the perfect one.”

“Maybe he’s playing house with someone else right now,” again Gibbs held up the picture of Carolyn Figgis, “we’ve gotta stop him before he decides she’s not the perfect wife either.”

0=0=0=0


	3. Chapter 3

3.

**The NCIS Building.**

Walking slowly around the reconstruction of the bunker, Kate checked the positions of the furniture and other artefacts with the photos taken by McGee.

“Something’s off.”

Jumping a little in surprise, Kate looked to her right to see Gibbs standing on the threshold of the room.

“Gibbs,” Kate turned to confront her boss, “I recreated the room from McGee’s photos.” Gibbs gave her a half smile but said nothing, “Everything in here was ALS’d,” Kate explained, “forensic evidence was sent to Abby and then I rebuilt it from the photos.”

Gibbs gestured for Kate to join him by the threshold; Kate gave her boss an exasperated look before walking over to join him, she held up a photo of the entire room taken from more or less where Gibbs was standing.

“This room and everything in it,” Kate explained, “is exactly as we found it.”

Silently Gibbs studied the photograph for a moment before walking across the room, he knelt down by the nightstand and adjusted the bedside lamp’s position by maybe an inch or two.

“That’s better,” Gibbs stood up as Kate frantically checked the photos; Gibbs had been right she’d misplaced the lamp by a couple of inches and she’d not noticed.

“What’s with his fifties thing?” Gibbs wanted to know as he turned to face Kate.

“The fifties represents an idealised time when the rules between men and women were simpler,” Kate explained. “A lot of the stuff in here is authentic,” Kate explained as she walked around the room, “but a lot isn’t. Some of its sixties, some of its reproductions, but its not pure.”

“He couldn’t get his hands on the real deal?” Gibbs suggested.

“I don’t think it mattered,” Kate announced, “this room is just a fantasy rather than built from memory.”

“Someone who grew up with it would be more pure?” Gibbs bent to examine the top of a piece of furniture, “So this is a younger guy?”

“That’s what I think,” Kate agreed, “plus he didn’t seem to have a problem about leaving it all behind.”

“Ducky said a wedding ring was removed,” Gibbs was working his way around the bed looking for clues, hints even of what had happened in the room.

“That makes sense,” Kate nodded her head slowly, “it’d be the one thing he’d want to keep in common from one bride to the next. I can’t imagine what she must have gone through, Gibbs,” Kate said quietly as she stood to one side of the room trying to spot any clue that she might have missed. “How many months did she suffer before giving up and realising she was never going to be found? That no one was ever going to hear her screams.”

“What I can’t imagine,” Gibbs said slowly, “is why she didn’t just get up and walk out of the place.”

“Sorry?” Kate gave Gibbs a puzzled frown.

“Think about it,” Gibbs walked slowly back to the threshold, “she wasn’t restrained in any way, there wasn’t a lock on the hatch, no door with locks nothing.”

“I see what you mean,” Kate walked over to where Gibbs was standing, “she could have climbed up the ladder opened the hatch and walked out of the house and out onto the road…”

“But she didn’t,” Gibbs pointed out, “it might be helpful if we knew why.”

0=0=0=0

**The Girl in the Cellar.**

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Faith fiddled with the wedding ring on the third finger of her left hand, she’d tried to take it off but it appeared to be stuck there. After showering, she’d tried to calm down and collect her thoughts and put them in some sort of order. First, whoever had brought her here, her money was on that Steve Rogers guy, wanted to keep her alive for at least the next few days. There was enough food in the fridge and the cupboards to keep her going for about two weeks, longer if she rationed herself.

There was washing and toilet facilities, hell there were even big white fluffy towels, toothpaste and cosmetics. Unfortunately her wardrobe appeared limited, the only thing she had to wear was the stupid wedding dress and that was going to get pretty rank soon if she couldn’t change or wash it. Not that she was planning on staying that long. A search of the room had turned up no secret doors, hidden cameras or spy holes. There were a couple of vents that supplied fresh air, both were far too small to crawl through; otherwise the walls, floor and ceiling seemed pretty solid.

In different circumstances the room wouldn’t be too bad, Faith suspected she’d lived in worse in the dark unknown period of her life before she’d woken up from her coma. No, this wasn’t bad, it could do with a TV or something, maybe a computer; a few pictures on the walls would be nice, personalise the place a little. But, as she’d already told herself she wasn’t planning on staying that long. So, Faith continued to stare at the door, if she was so determined to leave and spoil the sicko’s fun why didn’t she just walk over to that door and see if she could open it? The simple answer was that she couldn’t, the mere act of just looking at the door filled her with what could only be described as dread.

“Come on Faithie,” she spoke to herself quietly, “ya can do this, right?” Nodding to herself Faith climbed to her feet and faced the door, “Okay lets do it!”

With an enormous effort of will Faith took one slow step towards the door and then a second and a third. By the time she was only a couple of feet away from the door she was sweating with fear and there were so many butterflies in her stomach she wanted to throw-up again. Sobbing as the tears ran down her face she reached out to take hold of the door handle, her hand trembled as she forced it to move. Falling to her knees she started to retch, the butterflies in her stomach had overpowered her willpower and she knew she was within moments of vomiting what little there was left in her stomach onto the floor. Still she forced her hand to move until…

0=0=0=0

**The NCIS Morgue.**

“Oh my god!” Ducky took a step away from the corpse as he looked down at the woman’s abdomen, “Oh my dear,” he whispered, “I’m so sorry.”

“What’s wrong Dr Mallard,” Jimmy Palmer asked, a little concerned by the old pathologist’s reaction.

Unsatisfied with his initial examination, Ducky was determined to perform a full autopsy despite the difficulties caused by the young woman’s mummification. Carefully he had cut into her parchment dry skin and opened up her body cavity to his examination. All her internal organs where dry and shrunken to a fraction of their normal size. However other than the effects of mummification he’d found nothing unusual, he’d even discovered that the woman had eaten not long before she’d died. But then he’d noticed something odd about her womb.

Stepping back up to the body, Dr Mallard made a few deft strokes with his knife before lifting something from the woman’s body and placing it gently on the trolley to his left. There was no mistaking it, what he’d removed might be misshapen and malformed but it was most definitely a foetus of about four months he calculated.

“Call Gibbs would you Mr Palmer,” Ducky said slowly, “he’ll want to see this.”

0=0=0=0

**The Girl in the Cellar.**

Screaming in agony, Faith rolled across the floor clutching at her left hand. Her hand and forearm felt like it was on fire. No, it was worse than that, Faith had experienced being burnt, this was more like having her hand and arm forced into a vat of molten steel! As she rolled across the floor she got further away from the door and the pain in her hand and arm lessened. Sobbing with relief she pushed herself across the floor until she could rest her back against the foot of the bed. Terrified at what she was going to see she lifted up her left arm and held it in front of her face.

At first she didn’t believe what her eyes were telling her, blinking away her tears she looked at her arm again. Apart from a small area of redness around the wedding ring, which could have been caused by her twisting the ring around and around her finger earlier, her arm wasn’t a mass of raw, bleeding, blisters; in fact it looked just like it normally did.

“Okay,” Faith gasped to herself as she slowly regained control of her breathing and mental processes, “the bastard hypnotised ya and conditioned ya to not be able to open the fuckin’ door!”

Faith could vaguely remember reading about this in a magazine one long, cold, night on guard duty in Iraq. But, if she remembered it right and if the article wasn’t a load of crap, something like that had to take days even weeks to do; she didn’t feel like she’d been held for weeks. In fact, she remembered shaving her legs before going out, when she’d showered she remembered that her legs still looked freshly shaved. So, unless Mr Sicko had shaved her legs, she felt sure she hadn’t been held for more than twenty-four to forty-eight hours.

“Right,” Faith pushed herself to her feet, “now I know what’s happenin’,” she told herself, “I can fight it an’ just walk over to that door an’ open it.”

Her second escape attempt ended just like the first the only difference being the pain was more intense and seemed to spread further up her arm. Once again Faith sat on the floor with her back resting against the foot of the bed. Tears rolled down her face to drip onto the stupid wedding dress she was wearing.

“Come on,” she urged herself through gritted teeth, “no one fucks with Staff Sergeant Lehane.”

Gathering her legs under her she launched herself at the door once more. Her renewed assault ended in the same way as the previous two only this time it felt like her entire left arm had been plunged into a volcano. Gasping and sobbing Faith rolled from side to side as she lay on the floor cradling her left arm in her right.

“Bastard!” Faith sobbed, “Fuckin’ stupid fuckin’ bastard!”

To be honest right at that moment Faith didn’t know whether she was cursing herself or the sick pervert who’d locked her in wherever it was she’d been locked into. One thing was obvious, she wasn’t going to get out by trying to force herself to try and open the door. So far, despite all the pain she’d suffered she wasn’t even sure that the door was actually locked.

Getting to her feet, Faith stumbled across the room to the sink and ran herself a cup of water. Feeling the cool water slide down her throat and into her belly, she started to feel calmer. Looking at her left arm she saw no physical injuries, however it did feel numb, but that was quickly passing. So, if she wasn’t going to get out by attacking the door what was she going to try next? For a fleeting moment Faith considered digging her way through the wall next to the door. Reasoning that the wall must have a corridor on the other side it stood to reason that it had to be the thinnest of the four walls. However a quick eye search of the room turned up no picks or shovels that she might have missed earlier. In fact she couldn’t remember seeing anything that might prove suitable for tunnelling operations.

“God-damn-it!” she sighed as she walked over to the bed and slumped down on it.

By now the feeling had returned to her arm and it didn’t look any worse for her experiences than it had before. Looking at her hand her eye fell on the ring and the thought came to her that she had to get it off. Pulling at the ring, she found she still couldn’t remove it, just as she was about to get up and use some soap to help her get the damn thing off she heard something in the corridor outside the room. Something like footsteps approaching from down an echoing passageway.

“So, Mr Sicko,” Faith snarled to herself as she rolled off her bed, “come back for sloppy seconds, eh?”

Or, as Faith thought a moment or two later, perhaps he had an alarm system that told him if she was trying to break out. Faith smiled as she padded across the room, the freak hadn’t put in any cameras or spy holes, of this she was fairly certain, he’d have to come into the room to check on her.

“Big mistake,” Faith told the room; she found she could get to within about four feet of the door without the butterflies in her stomach making her want to throw-up.

That would be close enough, she moved to one side of the door. The footsteps stopped right outside the door. Standing against the wall Faith waited for her captor to open the door and walk in. As she was standing to one side of the door, when Mr Sicko came in she’d be behind him. All she’d need to do was step up behind him, grab him and using her unnatural strength rip his head off. Smiling in anticipation, Faith watched as the door opened.

0=0=0=0

**Captain Horne’s Office, Fort Shaw.**

Captain Horne’s hand stopped in mid-air as he reached for the phone. Letting his hand fall back to his desk top he started to review all the facts again before he called in CID.

At about eight o’clock this morning, Cpl Mitchell had reported Sergeant Lehane’s absence to her Platoon Leader. On questioning Cpl Mitchell, Lt Philips had discovered that Mitchell had seen Lehane at about fifteen-thirty the previous afternoon. The young corporal had explained how she and Sergeant Lehane had planed to go to a nightclub in Norfolk that evening but Mitchell had been put on a prisoner escort at the last minute. The prisoner was female and Horne always liked at least one female soldier on the detail.

Before leaving, Mitchell had encouraged Sergeant Lehane to go by herself to the club and enjoy herself. So far no one knew if Lehane had even reached the club. A check of local hospitals and law enforcement offices had failed to reveal any trace of Sergeant Lehane. As far as he knew, Sergeant Lehane was an excellent soldier with no problems at home or at work, she appeared to thrive on army life. She was a decorated combat veteran who, although wounded several times was eager to get back into action.

Her psyche evaluation showed nothing unusual and her previous commanders generally had nothing bad to say about her. Her previous company commander, a Captain Baron had even called to see how she and Mitchell were doing in their new posting, he’d expressed deep regret at having to transfer both soldiers. Lehane also appeared to be a good influence on Mitchell, the younger soldier’s appraisals had improved dramatically since she’d come under the guidance of Lehane. All in all, Sergeant Lehane appeared to be an exemplary soldier with no reason to go missing. It was therefore safe to assume that if she wasn’t on duty when she was supposed to be she had a damned good reason.

Reaching for the phone again, Captain Horne picked it up and put it to his ear, he dialled the number for Army CID at Quantico, he only had to wait a few seconds before the phone was answered.

“Army CID?” Horne asked, on receiving an affirmative reply he added, “Captain Horne here at Fort Shaw, I’d like to speak to Colonel Mann please.”

0=0=0=0

**The Bullpen.**

“Boss?”

“What is it, McGee?” Gibbs snapped angrily at the junior agent.

Gibbs’ mood had not been improved by his latest visit to the morgue and his discussion with Ducky. However, McGee wasn’t responsible for what had happened to Carolyn Figgis so taking out his own anger and frustration on the boy wasn’t going to do anyone any good.

“Sorry,” Gibbs stopped and sighed as he turned to face McGee, “I shouldn’t snap like that.”

For a moment McGee looked totally confused by the appearance of this new softer Gibbs.

“However,” Gibbs speared McGee with a gimlet stare, “if you don’t stop doing goldfish impressions and tell be what you’ve found, I’ll snap your head right off, you have found something, right?”

“Y-Yes Boss,” McGee stammered before being struck dumb again.

“Well?” Gibbs asked impatiently as he walked around to his desk and sat down.

“Right, yes boss,” McGee struggled to collect his thoughts, Gibbs gazed up at him expectantly, “L-Look while you were away I decided to do a computer search,” Gibbs raised and eyebrow as McGee’s tongue slowly came untied from the knot it had got itself into. “To see if there were any other kidnappings and or disappearances that fit with our first victim.”

“And?” Gibbs leant towards McGee expectantly.

“Over the last five years at approximately twelve to eighteen month periods three other women have ‘disappeared’, Petty Officer Figgis would be the fourth.”

“So?” DiNozzo called from the other side of bullpen, “That doesn’t mean they’re connected, Probie.”

“I’m just coming to that, Tony,” McGee picked up the remote from his desk, pointed it at the plasma screen and pressed a button.

Almost instantly photographs of the four missing women appeared on the screen, they were all strikingly similar in looks. So much so that they could all have been mistaken for sisters or close relatives.

“Crap,” Gibbs shook his head, although he’d suspected they were dealing with a serial killer he’d not wanted to admit it, not even to himself. “Well done McGee.”

“There’s more,” McGee added nervously.

“More?” Gibbs’ heart sank into his boots; he watched as McGee pressed the button on the remote again and another picture appeared on the screen.

“Staff Sergeant Faith Lehane, twenty-six, at present posted to ‘B’ Company, 727th MP Battalion at Fort Robert Shaw. She was reported missing this morning by her roomie after a probable visit to a nightclub in Norfolk.”

“What’s the name of the nightclub, McGee?” Gibbs stood up and reached for the draw were he kept his gun.

“‘Platinum’, boss,” McGee replied as Gibbs started to move.

“Kate, McGee,” Gibbs pointed to the agents in question, “Check out this ‘Platinum’ place…Tony you’re with me.”

“Where are we going, boss?” DiNozzo sprang from his seat, grabbed his gear and started to head out after his boss.

“Where do you think, DiNozzo?” Gibbs didn’t wait for Tony to answer, “Fort Shaw.”

0=0=0=0


	4. Chapter 4

4.

**The Girl in the Cellar**

Waking up once more, Faith found herself again lying on the bed. Pushing herself upright she winced at all the aches and pains that seemed to be afflicting her body. It was only after she’d finished gasping (it really felt like she’d been pushed from the back of a speeding truck or something) that she noticed that she wasn’t lying with her legs wide open or with the skirt of the wedding dress up around her hips. Breathing a sigh of relief, which really hurt her ribs, she swung her legs painfully over the side of the bed and sat for a moment trying to gather her wits. Having been given the opportunity of jumping her kidnapper, she’d hidden behind the door; she remembered seeing the door start to open and the impression of a figure starting to enter the room and then…

Try as she might she could remember nothing until she’d woken up a few minutes ago. ‘A few minutes’; the phrase echoed around her mind, like everything else she’d been wearing or carrying her watch had gone; she’d no idea how long she’d been asleep or indeed how long she’d been held captive. Wondering what her kidnapper had done when he’d paid his visit; Faith looked around the room, as far as she could see nothing had changed. However the way she felt certainly made it feel like he’d been assaulted.

Slowly and painfully Faith pulled off the wedding dress, she took a moment to examine herself. This time there was no green, stinking fluid oozing from any of her orifices. But this only meant that this time her rapist had done a better job of cleaning her up after he’d finish, the thought didn’t make her feel any better. Neither did the new bruises on her shoulders, breasts and ribs; walking slowly into the little bathroom she examined herself in the mirror. The bruises formed a pattern as if some one had worked her over methodically and had taken their time about it. The bruises looked new and she realised that the beating she’d been given must have really hurt when it’d been inflicted. These weren’t the bruises made by an over eager lover during rough sex. No, these looked like whoever had done it had meant to hurt her, to punish her.

“Oh god,” Faith gasped as an unpleasant thought struck her, she must have been conscious when the beating had happened; after all what was the point of hurting someone if they were already insensible?

Walking back into the main part of her prison, Faith slumped down on the bed and buried her face in her hands, she didn’t cry, she was too angry to cry. This meant that however had taken her could come into her prison, do whatever they wanted to her and she wouldn’t remember or even fight back, at least she didn’t think she could fight back. Checking her knuckles she found no evidence of her using them to beat someone to a bloody pulp, anyway if she’d done that she’d be out of this place by now.

Amazed at how calm she felt, Faith pulled the dress back on, it was the only thing to wear and she didn’t like the idea of walking around naked. After she’d got dressed she suddenly realised how hungry and thirsty she felt. Walking over to the tiny kitchen area she found a kettle and some instant coffee and started to make herself a drink. Opening the small fridge she checked through the contents, finding a ready meal of meatballs and spaghetti she pulled it out, quickly read the instructions and put it in the microwave. Just as she was closing the fridge door her eye fell on the spot that had contained the sample she’d taken of the fluid that she’d found dripping from between her legs, it was empty. Frantically she searched the fridge thinking she might have moved it while she was searching for something to eat. By the time the microwave *dinged* to tell her that she needed to stir the spaghetti and meatballs she was sure that it had gone.

“God-damn-it,” she cursed quietly as she stirred the contents of the food container, obviously her kidnapper had taken the time to search the place on his last visit.

Replacing her meal in the microwave, Faith wondered, was this why he’d hurt her? Had he been punishing her for trying to preserve the evidence? Or did he just get a kick from beating on helpless women? Was this all that her life meant to him, was she just something to beat on and screw until he got bored with her and finally killed her? Again the microwave *dinged*, waiting a moment she removed her meal and placed it on the surface next to the microwave. Pouring boiled water over the instant coffee granules she stirred absent-mindedly. Somehow she had to find a way of staying awake next time her ‘guest’ paid her a visit, if she could do that she could ‘arrest’ him (with extreme prejudice) and get herself out of this hole. But, to do that she first needed to work out how he made her fall asleep or at least forget each time he visited her.

0=0=0=0

**Platinum, Norfolk.**

Arriving outside Platinum, Kate and McGee found the entrance guarded by a grim faced army MP.

“Sorry, sir, ma’am,” the MP didn’t actually sound in the least bit sorry, “you can’t go in.”

“Special Agents, Todd and McGee, NCIS,” Kate showed the MP her badge, “what’s going on here soldier?”

The MP hesitated for a moment as he studied the two NCIS agents, deciding that there was no harm in telling them, seeing that they were cops, he started to explain.

“Looks like one of our people was abducted from here the other night,” the MP explained.

“A Staff Sergeant Lehane?” Kate asked.

“That’s right,” the MP nodded.

“We’re looking for her too,” Kate gave the MP a tired smile, “who’s in charge of the investigation?”

“Colonel Mann, ma’am,” the MP stood aside to let Kate and McGee pass, “she’s inside if you want to talk to her.”

Nodding her thanks, Kate led the way into the club, after walking through a short entrance lobby the two agents found themselves in the main part of the club. The club smelt of stale alcohol and sweat and it looked like a hundred others that could be found in any large American city. A dance floor, a DJ’s booth, tables and chairs all looking slightly faded and down at heel under the harsh lights that were only used when the club was closed. What made this club special was the tall, willowy female CID Colonel, flanked by two large MP’s, who was questioning what was probably the club’s manager. One of the MP’s noticed Kate and McGee and made his way over to them obviously with the idea of throwing them back out into the street. Once again flashing her badge, Todd walked determinedly towards the Colonel with McGee following in her wake; she waited for the Colonel to finish talking to the club manager before introducing herself and McGee.

“Special Agent Todd,” Kate gestured to McGee, “and Agent McGee, NCIS.” 

“Colonel Mann, Army CID,” replied Hollis Mann; the two women shook hands and spent a heartbeat studying each other, Colonel Mann was the first to speak, “How can I help NCIS?”

“We’re investigating a serial kidnapper and murderer,” Kate explained, “Your Staff Sergeant Lehane fits the requirements of our murderer’s victims, when we heard she’d disappeared we came straight over.”

“Serial kidnapper and murderer?” Colonel Mann asked slowly before adding, “Crap! How many?”

“Four that we know of ma’am,” Kate replied, “evidence suggests he keeps his victims alive for some time before killing them, there’s every chance that Sergeant Lehane is still alive.”

“Thank-god for that,” Mann appeared to brighten a little, she pointed in the direction the manager had taken, “Mr Conway, the manager, was helping out on the bar last night. He remembers seeing someone who fits Sergeant Lehane’s description talking to one of his regulars.” Mann paused for a moment before continuing, “He says they talked for awhile had a couple of beers and went out on the dance floor, he doesn’t remember seeing either of them after about twenty-one-thirty.”

“He’s got a good memory,” Kate observed.

“Agent Todd,” Colonel Mann smiled, “the photograph you have doesn’t do Sergeant Lehane justice, I’m told she’s a very attractive young woman the sort that men remember. Anyway, he’s getting the CCTV tapes from last night, with luck we’ll be able to see who Sergeant Lehane was talking to.”

“That’s very accommodating of him,” Kate observed willing to look gift horses in the mouth.

“Yeah,” agreed Mann, “most of his customers are from the Naval base…”

“So if she left here with someone,” Kate replied slowly, “chances are they work for the navy.”

“Which also means he doesn’t want trouble with the Navy and it’s the only reason I’m still talking to you Agent Todd,” Colonel Mann smiled down at Kate, “Ah, here comes Mr Conway with the tapes.”

“We’ll need copies of those,” Kate told the army colonel.

“We’ll see,” Mann smiled before turning to walk over to join Conway.

0=0=0=0

**Faith and Brenda’s House, Fort Shaw.**

“Maybe you should let me handle this, Boss,” DiNozzo whispered when he saw how cute the blonde MP Corporal was as they walked in through the front door.

After leaving NCIS, the two agents had driven to Fort Shaw where they’d spoken to Faith’s commanding officer, Captain Horne. The Captain had allowed Gibbs and DiNozzo to search Faith’s home and to speak with Brenda who’d arrived only a few minutes after her C/O and the two agents. The young woman had stood by the door in confusion until she saw her Company Commander standing with the two agents in the middle of her living room.

“What’s goin’ on, sir?” Brenda asked Captain Horne, she ignored the two civilians for the moment.

“Corporal Mitchell,” Horne sighed sadly as he spoke, “These are Special Agents Gibbs and…” Horne frowned as he tried to remember Tony’s name.

“DiNozzo,” Tony prompted.

“That’s right,” Horne agreed, “DiNozzo, they’re from NCIS, they think that Sergeant Lehane might figure in a case they’re already working on.”

Gibbs noticed how Brenda’s face turned pale and the way she took off her beret and screwed it up in her hands, the young woman was obviously worried. Maybe more than a friend or roomie would normally be?

“Corporal Mitchell,” Gibbs stepped in front of Tony neatly blocking his attempt at questioning the young woman, “how long have you known Sergeant Lehane?”

“Since Iraq in ’05, sir,” Brenda explained, “we were in the same unit.”

“Yes,” Captain Horne interrupted, “both Sergeant Lehane and Corporal Mitchell are decorated combat veterans, Agent Gibbs. I was damn glad to have them both posted to my unit.”

Glancing at Horne, Gibbs read the officers face; he wasn’t just being a good officer and praising his ‘men’ in front of a stranger, he really meant it.

“Unusual to have a Staff Sergeant and Corporal rooming together,” Gibbs observed as he checked the rest of the rooms leading off the living room.

“Erm,” once again Horne interrupted, “that’s down to me, Agent Gibbs.”

“How so?” Gibbs opened a door which lead to the second bedroom, he glanced quickly around the room noting how tidy and uncluttered it looked almost as if it was hardly ever used.

“Sergeant Lehane and Corporal Mitchell are the only female members of my company at the moment,” Horne explained, “that’s why I let them bunk together, that and them being Iraq buddies.”

“I see,” Gibbs watched the MP Captain for a moment, he was fairly sure that the officer either knew or suspected what was going on here, he turned to DiNozzo, “Tony I wonder if you could take the Captain outside so I can talk to Corporal Mitchell alone?”

“Sure thing boss,” Tony started to hustle the officer out of the house so Gibbs could talk to the Corporal.

“Corporal Mitchell,” Gibbs began once they were alone together, “I really don’t care what your relationship is with Sergeant Lehane, I only care how it impacts on my case.”

“Sir?” Brenda tried to act as if she didn’t know what the NCIS agent was talking about.

“Come on Corporal,” Gibbs raised his voice a little, “I’ve got eyes, that’s your bedroom isn’t it,” he pointed at the smaller of the two rooms, Brenda nodded her head slowly. “Then you’re either unnaturally tidy or you hardly ever use it.” Gibbs paused before taking a deep breath, “You and Sergeant Lehane are more than just buddies, aren’t you?”

“Yes, sir,” Brenda admitted.

“Whatever,” Gibbs shrugged, “now sit down and tell me everything you know about the Staff Sergeant.”

0=0=0=0

Pulling away from the house, Gibbs drove towards the main road, he noticed Tony turn in his seat to catch a parting glimpse of Corporal Mitchell.

“I’m fairly sure you’re not her type, DiNozzo,” Gibbs announced straight faced.

“How can you possibly know that boss?” Tony asked as he turned around to look at Gibbs.

“You have a penis...I assume…” Gibbs paused, “…and she’s ‘gay’, so’s Sergeant Lehane.”

“What!?” Tony glanced over his shoulder back towards the house, “How can you possibly know that?”

“I asked,” Gibbs replied shortly, “they’ve been in a ‘relationship’,” Tony could almost hear the inverted comas, “for several months, it started when they were posted to Camp Lejeune.”

“But…” Tony was lost for words, how could a hot woman like Brenda Mitchell be gay?

“I know,” Gibbs sighed as he pulled out onto the main road and headed back toward the NCIS building, “I found it hard to believe that two Army MP’s would be posted to a Marine base too!”

“What?” Tony did a double take, “Boss?”

“Yeah I know its weird,” Gibbs drove on dodging the car between the other traffic, “but what it does mean is that Sergeant Lehane wouldn’t have just gone off with anyone.”

“You mean it might have been someone she knew?” Tony suggested.

“Or a date-rape drug,” Gibbs added, “I hope Kate and McGee have found out something useful.”

0=0=0=0

**Platinum, Norfolk.**

Standing crowded together in the small security office, Kate squeezed herself between Colonel Mann and McGee and tapped the screen of the CCTV monitor.

“That looks like our man,” she announced.

The screen showed an image of Faith talking to a handsome man a few years older than herself. They appeared to be having a good time laughing and talking together. Kate had been impressed how Faith hadn’t left her drink unattended if she had to leave it with the young man, she either finished her drink or took it with her the couple of times she’d left the guy at the bar, she’d probably been going to the ladies room or something. She also noticed the look of frustration on the young man’s face every time she moved her drink out of his reach.

“It’s like she’s expecting someone to try and drug her,” Colonel Mann observed.

“It’s probably second nature,” Kate, a trained Secret Service profiler observed, “chances are she doesn’t even know she’s doing it. At some point in her past someone has drummed it into her head that she mustn’t leave her drink unattended.”

The time stamp on the tape read twenty-fifty-three, when the guy managed to distract Faith long enough to slip something into her drink. The three cops watched closely waiting to see any change in Faith’s behaviour, much to their surprise there was none. The couple appeared to be going on as before having a good time. At about twenty-one-twenty-two, the guy stood up and held out his hand to Faith. Taking his hand Faith walked with him out of shot towards the door. To the uninitiated they looked like a couple who were moving on somewhere else.

“She doesn’t look as if she’s going unwillingly,” McGee announced slowly.

“There’s several date rape drugs that work on altering the victim’s perceptions of what’s goin’ on around them,” Colonel Mann explained.

“Tim,” Kate pursed her lips slightly before continuing, “if she’d been drugged and it certainly looks like she was. The chances are that at that point she thought nothing unusual was happening. You saw how she was acting earlier.”

“Yeah,” agreed McGee, “she did seem ultra cautious.”

“We’ll need to run that tape through a facial recognition program,” Colonel Mann reached over and removed the tape from the player.

“NCIS is closest,” Kate pointed out, “you’re welcome to come with us, Colonel.”

Pausing for a moment, Colonel Mann considered her options. Deciding that this was no time for inter-service rivalry she nodded her head.

“Agreed,” Colonel Mann handed the tape over to Kate, “let’s get moving a young woman’s life is at stake.”

0=0=0=0

**Abby’s Lab.**

Sitting in her lab, Abby checked her results for the fourth time, her tests came back with the same answers as they had done every other time she’d run them. The foetus that Ducky had brought up to her lab earlier was not human. Yeah, alright it contained some human cells but mostly it contained cells the like of which she’d never seen before but if you took them with the evidence of the magical symbols pointed to something that she hoped she’d never have to face.

What was she to do? Was she supposed to go to Gibbs and tell him, ‘Hey Gibbs, your kidnap victim has been taken by some hell-beast that’s going to impregnate her with its spawn so she’ll give birth to some sort of anti-Christ’? Shaking her head Abby decided that that probably wasn’t the best way to go. 

Taking a deep breath, Abby slowed her racing mind and heart. Okay, she told herself, it would be easy enough to claim that the samples she’d been given were contaminated in some way, they sure looked that way anyway, she could also claim that the mummification of the sample had made it impossible for her to find out anything useful. While this would keep Gibbs and Ducky off her back for a while it didn’t alter the fact that there was a hell-beast out there trying to impregnate human women with its spawn.

What sort of hell-beast it was she couldn’t imagine, that wasn’t her area of expertise. Obviously each impregnation didn’t always work otherwise someone would have noticed all the hell-spawn turning up and trying to take over the world. It also explained why the hell-beast kept his victims so long. It probably only killed its victim once it discovered that the pregnancy wasn’t viable.

She needed help, she couldn’t let Gibbs and the guys blunder into a situation that they couldn’t handle. Jumping down from her stool, Abby hurried over to where her backpack hung on its hook by the door. It took a minute or two to find it, but Abby eventually found her address book. Turning the pages rapidly she looked for the number of the guy who claimed he knew someone who knew someone else who could get in touch with someone who might be able to help. It was a long shot but it was the best she could do.

0=0=0=0


	5. Chapter 5

5.

**Abby’s Lab.**

“Got anything yet, Abby?”

“GIBBS!” Abby squeaked in surprise as she turned to face the senior agent, “How…?” Abby stopped talking when she saw the tall, slim army officer standing next to Gibbs.

“Colonel Mann,” Gibbs answered Abby’s unasked question.

“Pleased to meet you, Abby,” Colonel Mann stepped forward with an amused smile on her face and offered her hand to Abby.

“Sure…likewise,” hesitantly Abby shook the Colonel’s hand while shooting Gibbs a ‘what’s going on here?’ look.

“So any luck?” Gibbs asked again.

“Gibbs,” Abby whined defensively, “I’ve only had the tape for half an hour and there’s millions of faces in the data base!”

“Wouldn’t it help to narrow the search?” Colonel Mann asked.

“Yeah!” Abby turned to the Colonel, “But…”

“Limit the search to personnel stationed at Norfolk Naval Base,” Gibbs suggested.

“Okay,” Abby agreed doubtfully, she turned to her keyboard and typed in a new set of search parameters, “there, done.”

“How long, Abby?” Gibbs asked, “A woman’s life could depend on this.”

“Gibbs,” Abby pleaded, “there’s thousands of people even on a reduced search like this it could take…”

“Look!” Colonel Mann called as she pointed up at the screen.

Following Mann’s pointing finger, Gibbs looked away from Abby and back up at the computer screen. The screen showed both the picture taken from the nightclub’s video tape and a service ID photograph.

“Who’ve we got Ab’s?” Gibbs wanted to know.

“Hold on…” Abby typed rapidly before looking up at her screen again, “There you go Gibbs!”

Stepping in front of Gibbs, Mann walked up to the screen and started to read.

“Lieutenant Steven Rogers, US Navy,” she announced, “he’s a Chaplain at Norfolk, he’s been stationed there for the last five years.”

“That fits in with the time line McGee worked out,” Gibbs said as he elbowed Mann to one side so he could stand in front of the screen. “Looks like he’s one of ours.”

“But the victim’s one of mine,” the Colonel pointed out.

“You’re welcome to tag along, Colonel,” Gibbs said with a crooked smile on his face as he headed for the door.

“Agent Gibbs,” Colonel Mann replied frostily, “I’ve not ‘tagged along’ anywhere since I was five.”

“No,” Gibbs watched Mann as she got into the lift next to him, “I don’t suppose you have.”

0=0=0=0

Stepping out of the lift, Gibbs walked briskly across the office until he came to his desk; Colonel Mann followed closely behind as if she was worried that Gibbs might make a break for it and leave her behind.

“Kate, McGee, DiNozzo!” Gibbs barked as he opened his desk drawer and reached for his gun; there was a chorus of ‘Yes Boss’ from the waiting agents.

“We have a lead,” Gibbs explained rapidly, “looks like a Lieutenant Rogers, a Chaplin over at the main base may have something to do with Sergeant Lehane’s disappearance.”

The three agents exchanged glances and nodded their heads as Gibbs went on giving his instructions.

“Find out from Abby where he lives,” Gibbs started to move towards the exit with Colonel Mann close behind him, “and then search his quarters.”

“Boss!” DiNozzo sprang into action by picking up his phone and calling Abby, while Kate and McGee collected their gear.

“Colonel Mann,” Gibbs stepped away from the lift door and gestured for Mann to precede him.

“No,” Mann smiled and shook her head; she wouldn’t put it past Gibbs to let her enter the lift and then walk off before she could jump out and follow him, “after you I insist.”

“Anyone would think you don’t trust me, Colonel,” Gibbs commented as he got into the lift and pressed the button for the garage.

“I’ve heard about you, Agent Gibbs,” Mann watched the lights change as the lift sank deeper into the building, “you don’t play well with others, do you?”

Gibbs shrugged before leading the way out of the lift and through the garage under the building.

“I wouldn’t say that,” Gibbs walked across the parking lot at the rear of the NCIS building as he headed for one of the parked cars.

“Hey!” Colonel Mann grabbed Gibbs by arm and brought him to a halt, “Listen up Agent Gibbs,” Colonel Mann stepped up close to Gibbs and looked him in the eye. “Sergeant Lehane is a brave woman and damn fine soldier and I won’t have her life put in jeopardy by your grandstanding!”

“Grandstanding?” Gibbs gave Mann a puzzled frown, “The idea had never entered my mind, now don’t you think we should get on?”

0=0=0=0

**The Girl in the Cellar.**

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Faith tried to puzzle out how her kidnapper and rapist made her forget everything that happened to her.

“Okay,” she said slowly to herself, “it can’t be hypnosis, so it must be somethin’ else.”

Right, Faith sighed as she tried to work out what was happening; she’d hidden behind the door, she’d seen the door open and had a vague recollection of seeing a figure come into the room and then…and then nothing. Everything had gone blank and she couldn’t remember a thing.

“So,” she asked herself, “what happened next?”

Getting up, Faith walked across the room to stand in the spot where she’d watched the door open.

“I musta at least tried to jump the mother,” she told herself.

The distance between where she’d been standing and where her kidnapper had stood couldn’t have been more than six feet, probably less. Faith was fully aware of her own special abilities, she knew she’d have closed the distance between herself and the kidnapper in a fraction of a second. She also knew that once she’d got hold of him there’d be nothing he could have done to save himself and fight her off. 

“God-damn-it!” 

Faith went and sat back down on the bed; when she’d woken up after his last visit there’d been no signs of a struggle. The absence of anybody lying on the floor would suggest that she’d not been able to lay a finger on her attacker before he’d done whatever he’d done to her to make her forget. The guy must have incredibly fast reactions; as fast as her own? A frightening thought entered Faith’s mind, maybe he was like her?

Perhaps this guy was like she was, faster reactions, superstrength, and better eyesight the whole nine yards. Ever since she’d first joined the army, Faith knew she was different, ‘better’ in some ways to ‘normal’ people and as soon as she’d realised she’d started trying to hide her abilities, only using them in life or death situations. Her life before her coma was a complete blank; she remembered some vivid dreams about the man she thought was her father being killed by a short blonde woman who then chased and stabbed her. But she could never see the blonde’s face and the man she’d assumed was her father was actually the mayor of a now non-existent town in California. Faith now believed those memories were false put there by whoever had made her the way she was. There had always been persistent rumours of government run experiments to produce the perfect soldier and this was what Faith suspected she was.

Everything seemed to fit, all the super powers her yearning to be in the army, she couldn’t imagine herself doing anything else. Long ago she’d suspected that her life was just an experiment. Whoever had ‘made’ her had let her out to see how she performed…and then what? Bring her in again and de-brief her? Maybe this was all part of some test run by the eggheads to see how she’d react, see if she could think herself out of a situation instead of just beating on someone or something until it was dead.

“Whatever,” Faith sighed quietly, “still gotta get out of here.”

So, this guy was at least as fast as her and probably had some fast acting drug or gas to make her go all forgetful and blackout. He’d taken her by surprise because she’d not thought it through and assumed that she was physically superior to her opponent. Next time she wouldn’t make the same mistake.

0=0=0=0

**St. Margaret’s Church, Norfolk Naval Base.**

Having come to an understanding during the trip to the church, Gibbs and Colonel Mann had agreed to run the investigation as a joint venture between NCIS and Army CID. Gibbs would be the lead investigator but all major decisions would have to be made by both Gibbs and Mann. It was in the spirit of this new-found co-operation that the two investigators entered the church side by side.

“Lieutenant Rogers?” Gibbs called as they entered the church and saw the figure of a man standing over by the altar.

The church was a large, modern, well lit building so both Gibbs and Mann had no difficulty seeing what happened next. Turning to face the two agents, Rogers appeared to see them for what they were. He gave a smile as if he’d been expecting them, pulling an automatic pistol from under his cassock he placed the muzzle under his chin.

“This isn’t the end!” he laughed, “There’s always more like me,” he cried just before blowing the top of is head off with his pistol and falling to the floor.

Stunned and with the sound of the gunshot still echoing around the church, Gibbs and Mann advance cautiously on the body their own weapons drawn. Starring down at the dead Chaplain, Gibbs and Mann realised that what they’d just seen hadn’t been some sort of trick.

“I wonder what he meant by that?” Colonel Mann bent to retrieve the fallen pistol and made it safe.

“By what?” Gibbs looked up to see the bullet hole in the church’s ceiling.

“That part about this not being the end?” Mann continued to look down at the body as the pool of blood slowly spread across the floor.

“Probably just trying to mess with out minds, Colonel,” Gibbs suggested.

0=0=0=0

**Lt Rogers’ Quarters.**

“That was Gibbs,” Kate announced as she flipped her phone shut, “Rogers is dead…”

“Dead?” DiNozzo queried.

“Yeah,” Kate nodded her head, she’d not expected Rogers to kill himself, his sort liked to gloat and taunt the investigators once they were caught, “blew his head off when Gibbs and Mann approached him.”

“He what!?” DiNozzo looked over his shoulder at Kate as he opened a clothes closet, “Hey!” Tony switched on a light in the closet, it was red, “Look what I’ve found,” he smiled, “it’s either a very small bordello or…” he moved the clothes to one side, “…a dark room.”

Joining DiNozzo in the crapped confines of the closet, Kate ran her eye over the photographic equipment.

“This makes sense,” she observed, “a sexual predator like Rogers would want to document his past activities.” Kate turned to look at DiNozzo who was standing far too close to her, closer even than the cramped closet warranted, she smiled up into his eyes, “I bet you’ve got photos of every girl you’ve ever dated, haven’t you Tony?”

“Yeah, but…” before DiNozzo could properly defend himself McGee called from across the room.

“Hey guys, listen up,” McGee was crouched over a coffee table with a laptop computer in front of him.

“What’ve you got, Probie?” leaving Kate to come out of the closet by herself, DiNozzo walked rapidly across the room to stand behind McGee.

“Nothing yet,” McGee replied as he worked at the computer’s keyboard.

“So why get so excited, Probie?” Tony was about to slap McGee on the back of the head but the computer expert’s next words caused him to stay his hand.

“I can’t get into them yet,” McGee explained, “but I think there’s several hidden files on this computer, I’ll need to use Abby’s computer to get at them.”

“Right, Tim,” Kate called as she started to head for the door, “lets get that back to the lab.”

“Hold on!” DiNozzo called halting Kate in her precipitous charge for the exit, “Aren’t we forgetting something?”

“What?” Kate asked hands on hips, “We have the computer, its obviously got his trophy photos on it so…”

“Look,” DiNozzo walked back towards the closet, “photographic equipment, where are the photo albums?”

“He obviously put them onto his computer,” Kate pointed out.

“Sorry, Kate,” McGee stood up, “he took prints not digital images. There’s no sign of a scanner so the chances are that there’s prints hidden around here somewhere.”

“Thank-you, Probie,” Tony replied condescendingly before turning back to Kate, “and do you want to tell Gibbs you didn’t do a thorough search?”

“Damn!” Kate sighed heavily before turning back and starting to search the room again.

After fifteen minutes of futile searching, all the three agents had come up with was a prodigious collection of DVD’s featuring TV shows from the late fifties and early sixties.

“Nothing,” Kate looked around the room one last time, “if there’s anything else to find its not hidden here…”

“Unless,” DiNozzo strode over to where an old record player stood in the corner of the room.

“This is no time for playing golden oldies, Tony,” Kate called impatiently as she watched Tony open the lid to the player.

“Not what I was thinking, Kate,” DiNozzo lifted out the turntable before producing a large photo album from the space under where the motor had been. “I used to hide stuff in my record player when I was a kid,” Tony pointed out as he opened the album and before his face turned pale, “Oh my god,” he gasped.

Quickly Kate and Tim joined Tony in looking at the photos.

“These must go back years,” McGee pointed out.

“Or he took more than one girl at a time,” Kate suggested; the photo’s showed more than a dozen different young women all dressed in wedding dresses all looking terrified as they stood or sat next to a smiling Lt Rogers.

“Lets get this stuff back to the lab,” DiNozzo closed the album with a snap.

“Right,” Kate pulled her cellphone from her pocket, “I’ll call and get a search team in here, I think there must be other stuff hidden in here. It’ll take more than us to find it.”

“Okay,” Tony hustled Tim towards the door, “we’ll get this back to the lab, you alright with waiting for the search team?”

“I’ll be fine,” Kate nodded, “go!”

0=0=0=0

**The Girl in the Cellar.**

Looking around her prison, Faith decided that her resources were pretty thin. Having discarded her earlier plan of tunnelling through the wall by the door as impractical she’d decided on more ‘direct action’. People had always advised her to play to her strengths and her strengths lay in beating people and things to a bloody pulp, this was no time to be changing her methods! 

It seemed obvious to her that a direct frontal assault was out of the question. Her kidnapper would only do whatever he did to render her helpless and she’d wake up later to find that he’d done whatever turned him on to her again. No, she told herself, next time she needed to be sneakier. Looking around she tried to form a plan. Glancing upward she saw the light fitting that cast its weak light around the room. It was a bare bulb in a recessed fitting covered with some wire mesh. Standing up she moved a chair and stood on that so she could reach the fitting. Finding she could get her fingers between the wire of the mesh, Faith used a little of her superstrength to pull out the mesh. Jumping down from the chair she went into the bathroom and collected a towel.

Using the towel she unscrewed the bulb until it went out and plunged the room into complete darkness. Closing her eyes for a moment she waited for the dazzle caused by the light to fade to nothing before opening her eyes again. Another of her super powers came to the fore, her ability to see in the dark. To her the room wasn’t in pitch darkness, light spilled in from under the door leading to the bathroom. Light also came from under the door leading to the corridor and the outside world. The amount of light coming in from outside was tiny; Faith guessed that if she took the bulb out of the bathroom anyone coming in from outside would be disoriented for at least a few seconds.

Okay, Faith thought, the guy comes in and finds himself in the dark. If this was a normal guy, Faith felt confidant she could take him down in a heartbeat. But, if he was like her he’d quickly recover and just do what he did and she’d be waking up with her legs wide open and a new set of bruises. So, what to do? What else did she have? Glancing down at the bed, Faith grinned, the sheets! She could cut up the sheets into long thin strips and make them into a trip wire or something. Pulling the bedding off the bed she started to rip one of the sheets into long thin strips, she might not have a knife but her teeth were sharp and easily cut into the material.

As she tore up the sheet, Faith looked around for something to connect the ends of her adhoc tripwire to. Unfortunately there were no handy hooks at ankle level or even any heavy pieces of furniture that she could move into place. Pausing in her tearing for a moment, Faith’s mind raced, after a moment a mental light switched on above her head. She’d only need him to stumble and be distracted long enough for her to get in close with him and do her thing. Moving the dressing table and the nightstand near the door she tied them together with lengths of sheet. Sitting back down on the bed she went over her plan.

“Okay,” Faith began slowly, “Mr Rapist comes into the room an’ finds the light’s gone out,” so far so good she thought. “Right, he can’t stop in time so he steps into the room and trips over the furniture.” Frowning a little Faith shook her head, there was no guarantee he’d keep coming but it was the best she could do, for now. “So he stumbles and I…” Faith paused as she looked around the room, “…come outta the bathroom an’ beat the bozo to a bloody pulp,” she smiled like a crocodile who’d just spotted her dinner on the river back, “bring it on!”

0=0=0=0


	6. Chapter 6

6.

**Abby’s Lab, NCIS.**

“Why doesn’t she fight back?” Gibbs asked as he watched in horrified fascination as the young woman on the screen was sexually assaulted.

“She wants to, Gibbs,” Kate replied, “you can tell by her voice, but the drug is suppressing her ability to do anything. It’ll also prevent her from forming any actual memories, so as soon as the drug wears off as far as she’d concerned nothing will have happened.”

Once McGee had returned to the lab with the laptop he’d found in Rogers’ quarters, he’d got to work decrypting the files he’d found earlier. The result was what the team was watching now down in Abby’s lab. There were four files each showing Lt Rogers assaulting and raping four young women over a period of the last three years. From the date stamp on the files they’d made the horrifying discovery that there’d been another victim between Petty Officer Figgis and Sergeant Lehane. The newest file showed Sergeant Lehane being dumped in what looked like an underground room somewhere and raped while she was still semi-conscious.

“Switch that off,” Gibbs turned away from the screen in disgust. “Abs is there any clue as to where Sergeant Lehane is being held?”

“Nothing much on the computer files,” Abby explained slowly, “he seems to have changed locations fairly frequently, but…”

“Abs?” Gibbs asked warningly.

“Okay, okay!” Abby walked over to her computer and typed on her keyboard for a moment, “but I did find this.”

“Can you blow that up please, Abby,” Colonel Mann asked as she walked over to the computer screen and studied the picture on it closely. “Looks like a metal door to me.”

“Yeah,” Gibbs stood beside her and pointed to the screen, “See those bolts?” he asked, Colonel Mann nodded her head, “You only find doors like that in one place…”

“Ammo bunkers,” Colonel Mann finished Gibbs’ sentence for him.

“Right,” Gibbs nodded as he turned to face his team, “McGee?”

“Yes boss!” McGee fought down the urge to jump to attention when Gibbs spoke to him.

“Find out the location of every abandoned ammo bunker on the base,” Gibbs ordered.

“On it boss!” McGee turned and left the lab at a run.

“Kate?” Gibbs turned to his female agent, “Contact the head of base security and inform him we’ll be conducting a search and we’ll need help.”

“Right away boss,” Kate turned to follow McGee but was held back by Gibbs call.

“And Kate,” Gibbs added, “tell them we’ll need bolt cutters.”

“On it, boss,” Kate left the room almost as fast as McGee had.

“Boss?” Tony asked hesitantly being the only person left without a job.

“Yeah, DiNozzo,” Gibbs said with no great urgency, “Go find some bolt cutters and put them in the truck would you?”

“Sure thing, boss,” Tony felt a little confused and not a little paranoid; he was Gibbs’ senior field agent and he was being sent to find bolt cutters, what was Gibbs playing at?

“I’ll call my office and have them send some MP’s over to help,” Colonel Mann said just before she noticed the look on Gibbs’ face. “Look,” Mann turned to face Gibbs, “she’s one of ours they’ll want to help.”

“Yeah,” Gibbs nodded his head, “of course, I’ll call the base commander and make sure they’re allowed on base.”

0=0=0=0

**The Morgue, NCIS.**

“Odd,” Ducky stood up straight from where he’d been working on the corpse of Lt Rogers, he stared down into the body cavity of the dead man; if he’d not been wearing bloody gloves and a Perspex visor he’d have scratched his head.

“What’s wrong, Doctor Mallard?” Jimmy asked as he weighed Rogers’ brain, or at least what was left of it.

“Come and have a look at this, will you Mr Palmer,” Ducky instructed, “tell me what you think.”

After placing the remains of Rogers’ brain in a bowl, Jimmy walked over to the autopsy table and examined the object Ducky had found in Rogers’ stomach.

“Oh my!” Jimmy exclaimed as he looked closer and closer, “It’s like an additional organ of some kind…”

“My thoughts exactly,” Ducky agreed, “here help me remove it.”

Lifting the strange organ away from the stomach wall, Jimmy Palmer watched fascinated as Dr Mallard quickly cut the three pipe-like attachments that held the mystery organ in place. As he did so thick green fluid oozed from the cuts and a vile stench filled the room making both men gag.

“My god!” cried Ducky as he watched Palmer put the organ into a metal dish, “What is that stuff?”

Despite the terrible smell, Ducky bent over the object to study it more closely, eventually the smell proved too much even for him and he backed off.

“Mr Palmer,” Ducky gestured to his assistant who was standing several feet away holding his nose, “send a sample of that green stuff up to Abby would you?” Ducky breathed in through his mouth, “While you’re doing that I think I’ll put that thing in a sealed container and then in one of the fridges.”

“Right you are, Doctor Mallard,” Palmer looked almost as green as the stuff oozing from the organ as he advanced towards it, specimen jar in hand.

0=0=0=0

**Abandoned Ammo Compound, Norfolk Naval Base.**

Standing in front of his Hummer, Lt Cmdr Willis pointed to the map spread across the hood of the vehicle.

“As you can see,” he told Agent Gibbs and Colonel Mann, “there are twelve abandoned bunkers each with fifty chambers…”

“Looks like we’re going to need more troops,” Mann sighed tiredly as she looked around at the Navy Shore Patrol and Army MP’s that milled around the yard outside the first bunker.

“Each door will be padlocked shut,” Willis informed them, “these bunkers have been abandoned so long that I’ve not been able to find the keys for them.”

“I’ll call for more bolt cutters,” Gibbs said quietly, “in the mean time we’d better get this search under-way, we don’t know how long Sergeant Lehane has left.”

Turning away from the map the three senior officers organised their available manpower into two man teams before assigning them each search areas. Once organised the teams moved out and started to search the dark, dank bunkers.

0=0=0=0

**The Girl in the Cellar.**

Sitting on the edge of her bed, Faith listened and waited, she’d dozed once or twice; she’d eaten a microwave burger (which had tasted disgusting) and drunk a fair amount of coffee too. If the caffeine didn’t keep her awake a full bladder would, she didn’t want to fall into a deep sleep and miss her chance at escaping. She had the feeling that her time was running out, if she didn’t get out of her prison soon she never would.

0=0=0=0

**The NCIS Building.**

A dozen army Humvees pulled up outside the NCIS headquarters and disgorged thirty or more troops in camouflaged uniforms all carrying rifles. The men moved quickly and efficiently to block all the exits and prevent anyone from entering or leaving the building. A tall officer accompanied by half a dozen of his men burst in through the main entrance and brushed aside any attempt to stop them or question him. Coming out onto the main floor the officer was confronted by several agents who covered him and his men with their pistols. Undeterred by all the weapons pointing in his direction, the officer held up his hand and walked slowly towards the agents.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” the officer called in a clear strong voice, “please lower your weapons. As you can see myself and my men are all wearing body armour and we’re all armed with M4’s.” The officer paused to let his words sink in, “Believe me when I say that unless you lower your weapons I _will_ order my men to open fire and you _will_ lose that firefight.”

Slowly the agents saw the futility of their position and reluctantly lowered there weapons.

“Good,” the officer said in a slightly less threatening voice, “now can anyone tell me which is Deputy Director Clifford’s office?” His request was met by silence, “If you don’t tell me I’ll just have my men kick in every door in the building,” the officer pointed out.

0=0=0=0

Bursting into Deputy Director Clifford’s office the officer strode across the floor and cut off the telephone call the Director was making.

“Just who the hell do you think you are?” demanded the Director angrily, “And what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Who I am,” the officer replied calmly, “is ‘need to know’ and you don’t need to know.” The officer handed the director an envelope, “This will answer any questions you might have.”

Taking the envelope from the mystery soldier, Director Clifford took a moment to study the young man in front of him. Apart from the Captain’s bars on the collar of his jacket his uniform was devoid of any unit identifiers or even a name tag, the helmet pulled down low on his forehead and the man’s dark glasses made it difficult to see his face. Slowly the director pulled a sheet of paper from the envelope and unfolded it; he took his orders from the Secretary for the Navy not from what ever jumped-up General this boy worked for. The Director had to read through the short line of text printed on the page twice before it registered with him that the document said what it actually said and whose signature was placed upon it.

‘ _The bearer has done, what has been done, by my authority and for the good of the nation._ ’

“I’m sorry things had to be done this way, sir,” the officer sounded more conciliatory than he had before, “but there were time factors involved.” He smiled apologetically as he pulled the sheet of paper from the Directors numbed fingers, “Now if you’ll excuse me I’ll do what I came to do and get out of your hair.”

Saluting, the officer turned on his heel and walked out of the director’s office leaving him to wonder how he was going to explain all this to his people.

0=0=0=0

**Abby’s Lab.**

Standing with her back up against one of her evidence freezers, Abby held up her hands and looked nervously down the barrel of the rifle that was at that moment pointing at her head. The soldier pointing the rifle at her never once took his eyes off her as two other soldiers quickly and efficiently searched her lab. Much to her surprise the men didn’t throw things around or wreak anything. They appeared to be looking for specific pieces of evidence. Eventually they seemed satisfied they’d found what they’d been looking for, one of the soldiers held the evidence bags up in front of Abby’s face.

“Are there any more bio-samples from this case?” he demanded in a voice that precluded any argument.

Nervously Abby read the case ID number on the bag.

“On the desk there,” Abby pointed to the specimen jar that Palmer had brought from the morgue only half an hour ago, she’d not even had time to log it in yet.

Taking the specimen jar the soldier looked around the lab once more, he appeared satisfied by what he saw and nodded to the other men who left immediately. The soldier walked right up to Abby and gazed menacingly into Abby’s eyes making her whimper a little.

“Sorry,” he said quietly, “but this had to be done,” he backed up a step or two, “thank-you for your co-operation.”

Turning, the soldier left the lab as quickly as he’d entered it leaving Abby frightened and confused.

0=0=0=0

**The Morgue.**

Finding himself pushed roughly up against the wall, Ducky looked into the determined eyes of the soldier who was at present holding him against his will.

“I want the body of Lt Rogers,” the soldier explained, “and all samples, specimens and organs you might have taken from his body.”

“No,” Ducky said calmly, “you have no right.”

Without saying another word the soldier let go of Ducky grabbed hold of Palmer and forced him to his knees in front of where Dr Mallard stood. The soldier pulled his pistol from the holster on his thigh, cocked it and pointed it at the back of Palmer’s head.

“Doctor,” The soldier said warningly, “if you don’t tell me what I want to know you’ll be looking for a new assistant, god-damn-it!”

“Alright, alright!” Ducky gave up, Palmer’s life was worth more than a dead body, “I’ll show you.”

Watching the soldiers collect the body, Ducky couldn’t help admiring the way the intruders went about their work; they did their job quickly and with the minimum of disruption to the morgue, carefully not touching anything that they weren’t looking for. After they’d left you’d have hardly noticed that they’d been there.

0=0=0=0

**The Girl in the Cellar.**

Jerking awake Faith heard the sound of foot steps moving cautiously along the corridor outside her prison. Jumping up from her bed, she quickly unscrewed the light from its fitting in the centre of the room. Checking that her trap was in position and the pieces of sheet stretched between the furniture were as tight as she could make them, she picked up a blanket off the bed and retreated to the bathroom. Shutting the door ‘til it was almost completely closed, she unscrewed the bathroom light and waited and listened for her kidnapper to enter the room.

0=0=0=0

**Agent DiNozzo.**

Finding that he didn’t have enough hands to hold his gun, flashlight and bolt cutters, Tony slipped the flashlight into the pocket of his jacket. The MP who’d been helping him had been called away when more bolt cutters had arrived so he’d been left by himself. Unusually the emergency lighting had been left switched on in this bunker and he’d made good progress cutting the bolts securing the doors and searching the empty rooms beyond. The door in front of him was the last door in this section of the bunker. Once he’d checked it out he’d could go back outside and find out if the army sergeant had been found before starting on the next section of the bunker.

Lifting the bolt cutters’, Tony realised he’d have to put away his gun as he’d need both his hands to operate the cutters. After slipping his weapon back into its holster he took a firm grip of the bolt cutters and saw that there wasn’t a lock on this door. Not bothering to pull his gun, Tony rested the cutters’ against the wall and searched in his pocket for his flashlight.

“Hello?” he called softly as he moved into the pitch black room his own body blocking the feeble illumination from the corridor, “En-Cee-Ie-AAGH!”

Tony saw a vague black shape against the blackness of the room as it came at him rapidly from the depths of the chamber. He called out in surprise as something was thrown over his head and strong arms held him and dragged him to the ground.

0=0=0=0

**Sergeant Lehane.**

Waiting breathlessly, Faith listened to the door being opened, peeping around the edge of the bathroom door she saw a man in his thirties slowly move into the room, he seemed to be searching for something in his pocket. Obviously he was looking for the canister of gas or whatever it was he used to drug her in preparation for his little visits. This had occurred to Faith while she’d been putting the finishing touches to her trap, this was why she held the blanket in her hands.

Not waiting for her kidnapper to walk fully into her trap, Faith launched herself from the bathroom holding the blanket up in front of her. With her super-night-vision she didn’t have to worry about any of the obstacles she’d left out for her attacker. Moving with frightening speed, Faith threw the blanket over the man’s head and grabbed him holding his arms against his body as she dragged him to the floor. Punching him through the blanket she felt his body go limp, pausing for a moment, Faith decided to hit him again. Eventually she pulled the blanket from around the guy’s upper body. Checking that he was really unconscious, Faith hit him for a third time just to be sure he was really out, before she started to search him.

“Fuckin’ pervert,” Faith snarled as she held up the handcuffs she’d found on his belt; quickly she cuffed his hands behind his back.

Continuing with her search she found his gun and spare magazines and a NCIS shield attached to his belt. Looking at the shield, Faith frowned for a moment and shrugged. Just because he was an NCIS agent didn’t mean that he wasn’t a sexual predator as well. Cocking the pistol, Faith dragged the man to his feet, he groaned as she shook him awake.

“Okay, motherfucker,” Faith pushed the muzzle of the pistol into the pervert’s cheek, “I’m just looking for an excuse to blow ya fuckin’ head off.”

“Hey!” Tony looked from his own gun to the face of the very angry woman who was threatening to kill him, “I’m Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo, NCIS, I’m here to rescue you!”

“Where’s ya back-up DiNutso?” Faith glanced towards the door, “no one moves without back-up, so where’s yours, asshole?”

“Okay, okay!” DiNozzo tried to sound calm even though his heart was beating fit to burst, “come outside and my boss’ll tell you I’m on the level.”

“Yeah, right,” Faith considered her options, she couldn’t stay here and she needed to get out; maybe ‘DiNutso’ was telling the truth. “Okay,” Faith whispered menacingly, “we’re going outside, ya even breath funny and I’ll blow ya brains all over the ceiling, ya got me?”

“Yeah, yeah,” DiNozzo agreed hurriedly, “the sooner we’re out of here the better.”

“Okay,” Faith held DiNozzo firmly by the collar of his shirt and pushed him towards the door, “lets go!”

Stumbling out into the watery sunshine, Faith was surprised to find the yard outside the bunker full of Humvees, DiNozzo had been on the level.

“Looks like it’s your lucky day,” Faith told him, she felt him relax almost immediately.

“Sergeant Lehane!”

Faith turned her head to see a female army officer walk slowly towards her.

“Ma’am?” Faith still had DiNozzo by the collar of his shirt and she still pointed the pistol at his head.

“Well done, Sergeant,” the officer said calmly, “you can stand down now.”

“Yes ma’am,” Faith slowly let go of DiNozzo.

In a daze she felt someone take the weapon from her hand, numbly she felt herself being lead over to a Humvee ambulance and helped into the compartment at the rear. A medical orderly started to take her pulse and shine a light in her eyes while she talked to her softly.

“It’s okay, Faith,” looking up she saw the officer looking at her as she held her hand for a moment, “it’s over, you can relax now.”

0=0=0=0


	7. Chapter 7

7.

**The Epilogue.**

**Faith and Brenda’s House.**

Walking across the little living room, Faith slumped down onto the couch and stared unseeingly at the TV in the corner of the room. It was all over; the medics had poked and prodded her and taken samples and given her a pill (she’d need to go back to the medical centre to take the second one tomorrow). They’d photographed her bruises which were already fading away. Her explanation that she didn’t bruise easily and that when she did they faded quickly had been accepted without too much comment.

The hardest part, worse even than the medical examination was giving her statement, reliving everything, to the NCIS Special Agent guy. Faith knew he’d had to do it; she was a cop too, at least he’d been quiet and professional about it he’d not commented on how stupid she’d been going off with Rogers in the first place. Yes, he’d told her that Rogers had drugged her, but Faith had this nagging feeling that she was better than that. Even drugged she should have fought back, broken the little bastard’s neck; she didn’t care what Agent Gibbs said, she should never have let this happen to herself in the first place.

All through the medical exam and Gibbs’ interview, Colonel Mann had sat or stood next to her, even holding her hand during the medical exam when Faith had felt like bursting into tears, wreaking the room and running until she was far, far away. Reflecting how lucky she’d been with the colonels she’d met, Faith smiled. There’d been the Air Force Colonel who’d stood in front of her so her buddies couldn’t see her crying after she’d got her Bronze Star. Then there’d been the Marine Colonel who’d tried to make her feel welcome and who’d later thrown that asshole Powers off the battlefield for being a ‘clusterfuck’ of an infantry officer. Now there was Colonel Mann who’d stood by her offering words of encouragement and support and sometimes just a shoulder to cry on.

So, it was all over, so why did she feel like this was only a beginning?

“Hi baby,” Brenda stood in the doorway to the kitchen looking down at her best friend and lover, “I didn’t hear yuh come in.”

“Hi B,” Faith couldn’t bring herself to look at the young woman, “ya know me,” Faith sniffed, “super s-soldier g-girl…”

Rushing across the room, Brenda sat down next to Faith and pulled her close as Faith sobbed quietly into her hands.

“Shhh, baby,” Brenda rocked her friend in her arms as she nuzzled Faith neck and kissed her face all the while telling that nothing was her fault, “we’ll get over it together y’know?”

“Yeah,” Faith took a deep breath and stopped crying, “ya right,” Faith turned and kissed Brenda on the lips but pulled back as Brenda began to make it something more than just a kiss. “Hey,” Faith smiled as she pushed herself away from her girlfriend and stood up, “I’m gonna take a shower, I feel all dirty, y’know?”

Watching Faith head for the bathroom, Brenda somehow knew something had changed between them, she hoped it hadn’t but she was old enough to know the look she’d seen in Faith eyes. It was sort of a lost, confused, frightened look she’d seen in her own eyes on more than one occasion, but she’d never seen it in Faith’s eyes before…ever.

0=0=0=0

**Chesapeake, Virginia.**

Pushing himself into the cellar, Riley saw the woman tied spread eagled on the bed. He estimated that she’d been dead for at least six months. The dry air in the secret room had done an excellent job of preserving the body and he could clearly see the look of pain and terror frozen on the woman’s face at the point when she’d finally died. He could see where the spawn had burst from her abdomen.

“Damn!” Riley winced as he took another step towards the body; his leg was giving him hell today, the painkillers didn’t really help only Buffy could take the pain away for any length of time.

“Yes Sir,” the sergeant in charge of the squad mistook Riley’s exclamation for one of the disappointment, “looks like there’s another one of the bastards on the loose.”

“Yeah,” Riley sighed heavily; they thought they’d tracked down the demon but then it had kidnapped Faith.

Why the hell had the damn thing kidnapped Faith, Riley asked himself. If he didn’t know better he’d think God or the mysterious ‘powers that be’ were playing with him and having a real good laugh at his expense. Then there’d been that thing with NCIS, that’d been a major disaster, having to go into their offices and basically steal all their evidence in broad daylight! That was going to need some major smoothing over and had probably put back inter-agency co-operation a decade or two. At least, he told himself trying to find the silver lining, at least the evidence they’d found had helped to lead them to the demons other old lairs. They’d found two more dead and mummified corpses, this one appeared to be the only one that had spawned successfully.

“Grateful for small mercies,” Riley muttered.

“Sorry, Sir?” Asked the sergeant.

“Nothing, Sergeant,” Riley gave the man an encouraging nod, “Get everything photographed, bagged and tagged. You know what to do once the tech-guys have finished.”

“Yes, sir,” the sergeant braced to attention.

“Good work, sergeant,” Riley congratulated the man before turning and limping towards the stairs that would lead him up into the house and then out onto street.

Today his leg felt like it was still there, it felt like it did when Faith and her buddies had found him in the desert. On really bad days he wished she’d never found him. He sometimes wished he’d died with his men before Faith had carried him to safety. But, if he’d died he’d have never have been able to marry Buffy, so he should be grateful to Faith and he was, more grateful than she could ever imagine.

Standing in the doorway of the house, Riley rested his hand against the door frame and took the weight off his injured leg for a moment. There was nothing more for him to do here, Lt Hobbs had the situation well in hand. Walking towards the road were his unit’s Humvees waited, Riley decided to head for home. He’d get someone to drive him to the air field. He could jump aboard a chopper and be back at Fort Drum before last light. He could drive to Grandview and be home before midnight, he’d be able to spend a whole night at home with Buffy and maybe, just maybe his leg would stop hurting.

0=0=0=0

**Colonel Mann’s office, Quantico.**

“Yes General, I’ll get right on it,” Hollis Mann put down her phone and sighed tiredly as she dry scrubbed her face.

The sooner the brass got off its collective fat asses and let her get the specialist investigation unit she’d suggested formed, the better. If it hadn’t been for those NCIS guys getting a couple of lucky breaks Sergeant Lehane could still be lying in that bunker with god knows what, growing inside her. Luckily the creature hadn’t managed to impregnate her, nor had the experience damaged the young woman too much physically or, Colonel Mann hoped, mentally. No doubt she was having feelings of self recrimination right about now, but Sergeant Lehane had seemed like a strong woman, she’d get over it.

At least Colonel Mann hoped she would. Staring at the top of her desk for a moment, she thought deeply about Staff Sergeant Faith Lehane for a moment or two. The young woman had quickly worked out what had been done to her and had come up with an escape plane that could well have got her out of trouble. Smiling Hollis Mann remembered the bruises on the NCIS agent’s face after Sergeant Lehane had worked him over a little thinking he was her kidnapper.

Sergeant Lehane appeared to be a strong and resourceful young woman. Just the sort of young woman that she wanted in her unit. Picking up her phone again, Colonel Mann dialled the number for the records department.

“Colonel Mann here,” she told the clerk at the other end of the line, “I’d like to see the personnel file on a Staff Sergeant Faith Lehane, I don’t know her service number but her unit is the 727th Military Police battalion stationed at Fort Shaw.” Colonel Mann waited as the clerk read back the details to her, “That’s correct, have them sent to my office as soon as possible.”

THE END.

0=0=0=0

**Author’s Note.**  
Just a short note because I’ve left several questions unanswered in this fic, chief amongst them; what happened to the demon? I intend to write a follow on fic for this piece, it’ll probably be a Law and Order SVU xover and it’ll likely be out in three or four stories time…I hope you can wait until then. 


End file.
